


Dead or Alive (But Together)

by Imagine28



Category: Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: Angst and Tragedy, Angst with a Happy Ending, Brief suicidal thoughts, Brothers, Canonical Character Death, Emotional Hurt, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Mako kind of saves Raleigh, Sad with a Happy Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-04
Updated: 2019-10-04
Packaged: 2020-10-20 09:45:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20673320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Imagine28/pseuds/Imagine28
Summary: Raleigh got so used to barely angling his head and seeing Yancy out of the corner of his eye, right there, always beside each other. During interviews, they would ask him questions about himself, a breath later about Yancy; they were, after all, the Becket Brothers. It was right, it was perfect, him and his brother against the monsters. When he ordered food from hotel rooms, plane seats, the Shatterdome's kitchen even, it was always "Two, please." It was the way things were and it was great. Yancy was his brother.And then, then it all changed.





	Dead or Alive (But Together)

**Author's Note:**

> Aight, so this is sad. Like I depressed myself, sad. Grief is hard, so please be conscious of that as you decide whether or not to read on.

_The Drift is strange._

_No, Rals. The Drift is silence._

It was a tangle of deep breaths, one brother breathing too fast before the other lulled him into an easier and more relaxed rhythm. It was a merge of random thoughts, the overwhelming excitement of a dream accomplished and the annoyance of an itch in a tight circuitry suit. It was a foreign sense of harmony and synchrony with the other's movements as they found themselves twitching a hand in unison.

The memories were still his, Raleigh managed to think past the blue blur of joint minds. There was still the sting on his own knee from falling in the playground. His mom baking cookies as Jasmine ran into him. No, not into him. Into Yancy.

In the back of his mind, where his brother resided, a soft chuckle reverberated.

_Yance, you sneaky bastard._

_You're not the only one,_ and Raleigh realized, Yancy was feeling the blue cold from the time Raleigh had forgotten his coat while waiting outside in the snow. The mailman was going to come around later that day to bring their Academy acceptance letter.

Ghost touches from Yancy's girlfriend, sore knuckles from Raleigh's fight with said girlfriend's brother. Mixed feelings layering over each other, the rare but occasional clash of temper between them, and finally emerging from the blue haze of two uniquely individual minds, silence.

"There we are," Tendo spoke softly in the background, as Yancy and Raleigh mirrored each other, a closed fist smacking an open palm before snapping their arms down to the attention stance. "Their neural handshake is stable now. Strong and holding, Marshal."

_Ah, yes_. As one, the Beckets took in a deep breath and released it slowly, comfortable in each other's mind.

_Right, that's where we are._

_In the Drift, Yance. We got our Jaeger today. Isn't Gipsy Danger a badass name?_

_Yeah, kid, as badass as us_. An amused pause as Yancy considered something. _D'you know not all Drift partners can 'speak' to each other?_

_Why not? They... mute? ASL?_

_No, dumb butt. They can't transmit their thoughts by formulated words, it's more of impressions and vague ideas._

"We're special, old man." Raleigh murmured so LOCCENT wouldn't hear through the microphones of their comms units.

Still, Yancy heard the words in his head and smiled. They were special. Not all siblings could back each other up in a fight, nor could all siblings be compatible for piloting.

_And what is this smart, scientific language - have you been hanging out around Tendo's team again?_ Raleigh prodded at the information in his brain from his brother.

Yancy smirked, unsure if it was his own reaction or Raleigh's. _I like learning, kid. It's a hobby we should share._

_Hah. Learn how to fight first, then I'll join you for study sessions_.

"How are we feeling, gentlemen?" The Marshal's grainy voice came out through the speakers in the Conn pod, effectively interrupting their fond bickering.

"Good, sir, thank you." With Raleigh's unconscious consent, Yancy answered for the both of them. The truth was, they felt at home. This was completion that could not be recreated outside of the Conn pod. They had had each other and no one else for long enough, this ability to share their thoughts and acting on them _together.. _it was only natural.

"Good to hear. That was fast and smooth, gentlemen, well done. How does she feel?"

Yancy angled his head towards his brother and Raleigh smiled without looking at him. "Beautiful, sir. Her engine's purring like a kitten."

_Like a kitten? Really, Rals?_

_Yeah.._ An uncertain pause_. That's what people say?_

"Good. She'll be ready in a few days, but for now we'll take it easy. That'll do for today. Mr. Choi, you may disengage their Drift."

Tendo's voice warned them of the absence they would feel shortly. Raleigh almost wanted to protest, it was nice having his brother with him. Yancy sent him a last mental wave of contentment and Raleigh felt himself relax. "Neural handshake disjoining in five, four, three ..."

Then, like being pulled out of a familiar and pleasant dream, Raleigh was alone again in his own mind. Yancy let out a huff of air and Raleigh searched his brother's gaze. It was oddly... _lonesome_, being left alone to his own thoughts. And a bit strange to _see_ his brother but not be able to.. _feel_ him. Maybe it was too soon to be so comfortable, but he would never mind having his brother in his head.

Yancy gave him a small smile and Raleigh grinned back. "She does sound nice, Yance. You gotta admit."

"Sure she does, kiddo. Just imagine her ready for battle. We'll kick some real ass then."

Raleigh laughed. He was still smiling when the technicians helped him out of his suit.

* * *

Fighting monsters was exhausting. Raleigh sighed from the hotel couch, sitting still while Yancy worked. He leaned to his side and hissed softly from the pull of strained muscles, slowly raising his legs to rest one on the back of the couch and the other on the armrest. He was sprawled carefully, ribs sore from phantom pain after the hit one of the Kaiju had given Gipsy. That was the miracle of circuitry suits, he supposed. His body remembered the pain from Gipsy in a way similar to ghost drifting, the brass had said. Almost like when he and Yance would say the same thing at the same time, maybe, Raleigh didn't understand it completely.

Yancy was at the desk writing a report to the Marshal. He could feel his brother's tension in his shoulders after a day of press conferences, and two live interviews at different morning talk shows before that. The burst eye vessel they both sported probably didn't help much. The Kaiju's headshots had way too much force behind them, and they'd payed the price for not blocking in time.

"Rals, kid. Please. You're thinking too loud." Yancy slouched and leaned his forehead on the palm of his hand, the tablet he was using momentarily forgotten. "We can practice in the kwoon room back at base. Or spar with the other pilots." Yancy looked tired. Too many early mornings were rough on both of them.

"Yeah, I know.." Raleigh stretched and grimaced as his ribs protested. He gave a chuckle at Yancy's sympathetic grunt, and pretended it was only Yancy who was feeling rough around the edges. "Tired of paperwork already? You're getting old, Yance."

"Shut up."

Raleigh laughed, then winced. He sat up slowly, getting to his feet and making it to the large bed in the middle of their room.

"Look who's going to bed early." Yancy teased. "Who's the old man now?" He grinned and left the tablet on the desk to start his bedtime routine.

Raleigh huffed and got comfortable on his side. He wished the PPDC would get beds as fluffy as hotel ones. It was way too nice, almost like the mattress would engulf him in comfyness. He would love going to this type of bed each night.

He didn't realize he had fallen asleep until he jumped when he felt the other half of the bed dip with Yancy's weight.

"Easy, kiddo. Just me." Yancy murmured, pulling the covers over both of them. The room was blessedly dark when Raleigh opened his eyes. Yancy was close, so Raleigh closed his eyes, hummed, content.

Yancy hummed back, shifting closer. Their faces were a few inches apart, and they shared breaths for a few peaceful minutes, enjoying each other's company before sleep finally overtook them.

* * *

Yancy had been his tethering line. His golden brother had been his grounding point. When the nightmares came, as they were bound to come, Yancy was his safe guard. When leather skinned, reptilian-looking monsters invaded his dreams, squashed Yancy or Gipsy beneath their enormous claws, and he screamed, Yancy was there when he woke up. He held him as he trembled, reassuring them both they were safe, they were alive, they were together. And he never minded when it was Yancy who woke him up in a panic, his brother's nightmares on the inside of his eyelids. He always held Yancy when it happened, and rubbed away the cold fear from his brother's chest.

Raleigh got so used to barely angling his head and seeing Yancy out of the corner of his eye, right there, always beside each other. During interviews, they would ask him questions about himself, a breath later about Yancy; they were, after all, the Becket Brothers. It was right, it was perfect, him and his brother against the monsters. When he ordered food from hotel rooms, plane seats, the Shatterdome's kitchen even, it was always _two, please_. It was the way things were and it was great.

"Daydreaming, Rals?" Yancy was smirking when Raleigh finally focused on his brother's handsome face.

"Nah, just watching the techs work."

"The techs or their behinds?" Yancy hummed as one of the techs tossed off a t-shirt and remained in a sweaty tank, but laughed as Raleigh colored beside him.

Sure there were arguments. Sometimes they would spend a whole day fuming against the other and Yancy would move stiffly, or sit up too straight beside him but he would never walk away. And come nightfall, the apology had already been said, forgiveness given without hesitation. They were brothers and copilots, and Raleigh couldn't have asked for more.

As they rose into the world's view and became rock stars, television crews followed them around cities and asked for them to spend time in front of cameras. The PPDC sometimes allowed it, and they'd fly in and out of the Shatterdome together, steps in sync. When they weren't inside the Shatterdome, it felt a bit strange, though. Fancy hotels and large suite rooms made Raleigh super excited, and Yancy a bit apprehensive. They shared a bed to ground each other, sometimes touching and other times not, but always feeling warm, safe.

Strange, Raleigh thought years later, when it was him and his tools and the height from the Wall of Life. When he thought of Yancy, he always remembered safe. Together inside a Conn pod, they could have taken on anything and still won.

* * *

And then. Then it all changed.

He had woken in a hospital bed, IV lines connected to him, the steady beep of a heart monitor rousing him. He had been disoriented and lost. The hospital room was too sterile, so empty, so cold. Hurt, and hurting, the entirety of his left side burned, and the veins of his suit forever imprinted on his skin. Of course, that coherent thought came after.

An endless echo of Yancy's last words reverbrating in his mind. _Raleigh, listen to me - !_ There was a part of him, a part of his consciousness that ached with his brother's absence.

He flung off the light blanket, and pulled out the needles in his arm. There was no sting of pain but the drop of blood that oozed out scared him and made him cry out. Yance-

"**Yancy!**"

A nurse came in running, telling him he was safe, that he needed to calm down. The nurse tried to have him drink some water, but he threw the Styrofoam cup away from him.

"Leave me _alone_! You don't understand!" Raleigh knew there were tears running down his cheeks, his voice was hoarse from them.

Another nurse walked into the room, and Raleigh struggled with both of them when they tried to push him onto his back.

"No! **Yancy**!" _Yancy was -_ and he didn't know where he was, if he would get him back? He felt the prick of another needle and he threw the nurse responsible a disbelieving and heartbroken look before it all went dark.

Later, Marshal Pentecost had visited him in his hospital room. He had sedatives in his blood, making him slow, but not so much he wasn't coherent. The Marshal tried to talk to him, ask him how he was doing. Raleigh shrugged the shoulder that wasn't numb in bandages, his right maybe, and remained silent. The Marshal left, saying Tendo would visit the next day. Raleigh didn't turn to look as the door closed behind him. Nothing made sense - How could life blink out so fast...

Without Yancy, he couldn't imagine a life he wanted to live. _Yancy was -_

The PPDC would not have use for Raleigh. He was only good with his brother, and everything else was pointless.

He didn't even get to listen to what his brother had to say, the thought hadn't been formulated yet when -

Hot tears leaked from his eyes, and he let the drugs pull him into sleep.

* * *

He wanted out.

Pentecost let him.

Wherever he went, wherever he walked, he couldn't hear his brother's voice, he couldn't see his smile, he couldn't hear the echo of their joint steps as they walked. There was no more Becket Brothers. It was just him now.

The press tried to find him, but he wasn't that important without Yancy. _And Yancy was -_

There were many, many nights that first week, and then the first months, the first year, when he couldn't sleep. His thoughts were always on his brother. The silence was overwhelming, filling his mind, leaving him in anguish. His chest hurt sometimes, feeling either hollow or heavy with sorrow, sometimes both, but mostly his head ached. The brass said it was backlash from the interrupted drift added to the stress of piloting Gipsy on his own for a mile. Oh, and they also said grief could make his body hurt in different places. He believed them.

The Marshal had told him that he should stay busy, that there was help the PPDC could offer if he needed to find a job.

He didn't want to stay with the PPDC, and he didn't want their help economically. Not that they could give him much anyways, what with ongoing building and fixing of Jaegers and pilot training. He wouldn't be anybody's burden.

* * *

He wished he could have seen him smile one more time. He wished he would have told him how much he loved him, how all the memories from their childhood, from their playing to their misadventures, they were all memories he loved. He wished, randomly and so, so fiercely, that Yancy was around so they could mess around in the snow, make an igloo like when they'd been kids, come inside for hot cocoa. He wished they had stayed up at nights more often just to talk, so that Raleigh could have memorized the way he spoke, the gentle sound of his breaths. He wished he could get a last embrace, so he could feel the warmth of his brother against his chest, in his arms. He wished they had never argued. He wished he hadn't been so cocky.

He wished the Kaiju had never come, so they could have aged in peace together. He wished, bitterly sometimes, that they had never gone to the academy. He wished they were out driving together, like when they'd practiced in an old truck, Yancy giving careful and surprisingly patient instructions. He mourned and cried and sometimes scared himself with his own sobs, because now there was no one to soothe away his tears, no one to hold him together and keep him from falling apart.

_Yancy was dead_.

His brother, his copilot, since the academy his everything.

He dreamed of that night, and sometimes it was all dark, the night and its rain, the black and surging ocean, the streaked Kaiju's skin. And sometimes it was all white snow, and the frozen stiff sand of the beach, and Gipsy groaning to her knees. But Yancy was always dead when he woke up, and there was always the same empty ache in his chest.

_Yancy was dead_. And he would never get him back.

He mourned, and he grieved, and he found it hard to find a reason to smile, a reason to stay alive. He wished he could follow Yancy into that void he'd lost him to, so they could at least be dead together. He wished he knew how to go on without his brother, because every damn day seemed like he woke up to look for work without meaning. Every day was just like the last, a brief pang in his chest of panic, of thinking he needed to find him before he remembered.

Without Yancy, he didn't want to live the rest of his life with this pain, this sadness in his bones, the heavy fog in his head.

The first year anniversary of his death, he'd been scared for almost two months. He had seemingly random dreams, of what it'd been like before. Of them watching movies in old pajamas with a buttery bowl of popcorn between them. Of eating at a restaurant instead of the mess hall. Because when he was awake, he was scared of what that date would be like. If the world would remember Yancy. Of how broken and tender his heart would feel.

One month before the actual date, he scraped together some money to buy a couple flowers. Yancy hadn't been over the moon concerning flowers, but he knew he would accept Raleigh's gifts always. Nobody asked why he laid them down at the barren beach and stared into the ocean mouthing "I miss you" over and over.

It was one night, fifteen months and twenty two days after Knifehead, when he'd gotten so drunk, he couldn't walk, and the tears were welling in his eyes and making everything blurry when he saw the news report on a small and cracked television.

Another fallen Jaeger, and too many people dead in that coastal city. Someone else in the joint had gasped and Raleigh had only twisted his mouth in misery and looked down. But he listened to the news anchor with attention. The PPDC was in danger of being replaced by a wall around the Pacific rim. A Wall of Life to keep the Kaiju out and a way to save resources from being poured into building Jaegers.

Yancy, handsome, funny, selfless Yancy had valued human life. If Raleigh had been reckless and sometimes careless, Yancy had reminded him to keep the people in the city safe. It was why they had agreed to risk themselves the night of Knifehead, to keep the civilian vessel safe and the people inside it alive.

So when he couldn't save lives in a Jaeger, he decided he would try to save lives by helping build the Wall.

It was hard at first, relearning how to use the tools to remold metal and building up, up and to the sides without Yancy's voice in his ear laughing at his mistakes. The cold of Alaska bit at his cheeks and at his fingertips, the nights dark and cold, and sometimes he shivered until he was too tired to keep shivering. But Yancy would have probably preferred it if his brother helped others, so he kept following shifts on the wall.

He didn't make friends. How could he when he was absolutely broken inside. He couldn't let anyone in again, he couldn't lose anyone again. It would shatter him, and the last pathetic pieces of his soul and his mind would flutter away into the ocean.

* * *

One day the PPDC, (on behalf of the UN, or maybe the other way around) sent a movie to the guys at the wall so they'd watch it, for the hell of it. So they all ate together and someone rolled in a large projector like it was the 2000s and they watched a movie.

And Raleigh couldn't for the life of him understand why any hero, any protagonist, any main character had to have someone they loved die in order to do something with their lives. And he struggled to swallow down the last bite of his food past the lump in his throat. The people in the movie didn't quite move on, they had to live with their pain, so did he.

So when everyone was sleeping or trying to sleep, he bit his knuckle as he laid in his lumpy cot, and felt his eyes get hot, but he didn't cry.

Time began to pass, and he traveled Alaska, chasing the Wall, slowly scarring over the neural bridge that had been torn apart so savagely. The nightmares woke him up in a terror sometimes, his brother's voice ringing in his ears and he would sit still for hours until the sun came up and he'd go to work again. There were times when he just _missed _Yancy, just wanted to talk something out with him and wistfully wondered how his brother would go about doing this or welding that. But he was trying to be stronger, and he hoped the years that crawled by were helping.

When he traveled with the wall, he'd take out his pictures at night, stare into Yancy and his own smiles. Sometimes a guy would ask him, say something about the good old days. And it was okay. He would nod, maybe give a sad smile, and answer _Yeah, the glory days,_ not realizing there were better days ahead.

One morning, after five long years, he saw the Hansens on television, and wondered if they could have made a new record with Yance, and he hated himself a little in that moment, for letting his brother go.

* * *

When he had asked to give Mako Mori a shot, he hadn't thought much of it. Just a rookie wannabe Pilot with promise and potential, a pretty face with talent among a sea of engineers and scarred people. He might have been judging too harshly, but Pentecost had recruited him again, and this time Raleigh had accepted not because he wanted to be a rockstar with his brother. This time he had returned to the PPDC to die, in a Jaeger. His view on life and the rest of the world around him had been dejectedly bleak since Knifehead and that desolate beach in Alaska.

Then there had been a spark of connection. It wasn't like it had been with Yancy, soft and familiar. This had been electric and surprisingly _right_.

She had beaten him, and he had been at her mercy, and this had made him smile just a little.

On the floor, sprawled and arcing his hips to lessen the strain from her hold, he thought almost drunkenly, maybe he would be able to Drift with her. Maybe she could mend what was not yet shattered. It was far fetched, this thought, and when Pentecost denied them, Raleigh became smitten with the idea of them together in the Conn pod. He was going to fight for what he wanted, like he had beside Yancy.

As he ate lunch with Herc and Chuck he remembered that respect had been an issue for his younger self as well. Before, Yancy had been the one to make him shush and accept a chastisement but now it would be her, she could keep him in line, if only she wanted to.

He supposed things had started to look up from where they had been before because, by some grace, Pentecost let them Drift.

She walked in, confident but reverent to Gipsy, and though they were about to share themselves with each other, he smiled and said, "You look good," like the Piloting armor had been made only so she could wear it. Her mind was sharp with intelligence, a beautiful thing to feel and understand. Her passion for her work, for Gipsy Danger, for her family, her blazing hope he realized he had lost bursting through their connection.. and she wasn't just a pretty face anymore, like Yancy hadn't just been his brother. She was . . . his copilot. Together, just Mako and himself, they could face this world, these monsters, the war, and they could win. They could be invincible.

Standing outside as they heard Chuck insult them, he realized he was angry at the other man's careless jabs at Mako. Raleigh was broken, yes. He knew that better than anybody. He had lost, badly, and he had payed and would continue to pay the price. He "had been" once upon a time with his golden brother at his side, a good pilot, a great pilot.

"Stop, _now_." Mako bit out at Chuck, and Raleigh put up his hand when she moved.

"Yeah, you just hold back your little girlfriend. One of you bitches needs a leash."

But as beaten and damaged as he was, he wasn't going to let the favorite star insult _his _copilot.

So of course, he fought Chuck.

His body seemed to hum with impulses that didn't come from within, and he slapped Chuck when he could have easily just given him a right hook. Then he was somersaulting? And he was on top and Chuck had his face on the floor yelling out anger and frustration. Herc ordered them up and Raleigh still couldn't believe that his moves were entirely Mako. She was perfect even when they weren't connected in the ConnPod.

Was this... Was this ghost drifting? Yancy and him, they had synced and moved together well enough before even their first time in a Drift, so it hadn't felt too abnormal. But this thing with Mako, it was sweet, it was trust and reward, and he wanted it more than he'd wanted anything in the last five years. She seemed to feel the same way, somehow, and they found each other to eat by each other's side. Next to her, he found he was strong enough to talk about the past without it crippling him.

"When Yancy died, we were still connected." Raleigh looked at her with earnest eyes for a second before his gaze fleeted away at the memory. "I felt his fear, his pain, his helplessness. And then, nothing."

Had he healed, that he could talk about it so quietly, if not peacefully? Maybe. Or maybe not.

"I know, I felt it." But Mako didn't judge him for that. She just understood it, and accepted it, letting him hold her hand as they felt their hearts laid bare along with Gipsy's.

In the end, after they closed the Breach, Raleigh thanked God, and even the damn Kaijus, and all the gods, and the ocean, and sent a stray thought to Yancy, because Mako was alive, her forehead was wet but warm and solid against his, and they were alive together.


End file.
